


Air

by HenryMercury



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Anxiety, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, POV Asami, Panic Attacks, Post-Book 3, Post-Book 4, and
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:49:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4920253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HenryMercury/pseuds/HenryMercury
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Even barefoot, Korra thumps across the floor, loud in the post-midnight stillness. It's just the two of them in the house, Asami supposes; if there's nobody else to be woken up then there's really nothing sacred about the silence.<i></i></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Air

_Asami turns the lights down low. Her eyes aren't focusing so well on the plans on the desk in front of her regardless. The contract for Republic City's roads is just about the only thing that can keep her company afloat, and the urgency of it all is paralysing. Why Asami is suddenly incapable of simple design work, why she is suddenly afraid of it, she doesn't know. Not when she's faced so many more challenging and terrifying things, both as the heir to and CEO of Future Industries, and as a member of Team Avatar. She just needs to calm down and think clearly, the way she knows she can._

_Her body doesn't listen to her when she tells it that, though, and its simple disobedience exacerbates everything. She should be in control of this. Panic washes coldly through her even as her face heats uncomfortably. She shudders with it like she's ill, feverish, poisoned by it._

_Poisoned? No, she thinks. Korra was poisoned. Korra was poisoned and she still saved the world from all the chaos Zaheer would have brought about. Asami is not poisoned, just malfunctioning._

_She grips the desk top's edge hard—hard enough that it anchors her against her own lungs as she hauls a breath into them. It's as though her windpipe is shuttered off in several sections. She yawns, half on cue and half out of honest tiredness. This inhalation is deeper, better, but the choking tightness resumes immediately after it._

_In the midst of it all, Asami just wants to talk to Korra. To hold her hand or have her stroke fingers through Asami's hair. To listen to her talking about something, anything. It's an impulse rooted in the same desire for comfort that makes her want her parents' arms around her, impossible as that is. A childish thing. The most broken-down cry for help, when the simple task of breathing becomes too hard._

_She could write to Korra about it. She almost has before; has even put pen to paper on the subject, but always throws away what she's written long before it has a chance to be sent. Things that feel so urgent when they're in her, gripping her insides, just become complaints and clichés whenever she tries to put them into words._

_How could she write to Korra about a little anxiety anyway? Korra, who's fighting something much bigger right now._

_In the end it doesn't matter, because Korra doesn't seem to get her letters._

-

Asami wakes feeling clammy and unpleasant. There's water gathered at the edges of her eyes which runs when she blinks, and her head already aches the way crying always makes it. It is far from morning. She slips carefully out from underneath the arm thrown over her waist and pads out of the room; she knows this route in perfect darkness. She is a little shaky on her feet, as though she's just run a long way. Enough to bother her, but not enough to actually interfere with her quiet path through the house.

In the kitchen, Asami splashes cold water on her face and then gulps down a cupful of it. Her stomach feels uneasy, but it might not just be from the nightmares—it's that time of night when hunger often arises, mixes in with everything else. In case of this, she finds leftover seafood noodles in the refrigerator and picks at them for a while. Her father always liked noodles like these ones. The smell and taste of them is full of memories, but she can't refuse to eat or do anything that feeds her nightmares or her grief. She'd be left swallowing nothing but air—and even that would be a laboured task.

Despite her care in sneaking out of the bedroom, Asami hears steps coming down the hall. Even barefoot, Korra thumps across the floor, loud in the post-midnight stillness. It's just the two of them in the house, Asami supposes; if there's nobody else to be woken up then there's really nothing sacred about the silence.

"I'm sorry," Asami says as soon as Korra rounds the corner and enters the kitchen.

Korra is still rubbing her eyes. Her hair looks normal on one side but is completely tangled on the other. "Not 'cause of you," she says, grabbing a glass of water for herself with the motions of a sleepwalker. "Wasn't really sleeping that well anyway. More resting. Like bed meditation. Beditation?"

Asami lets out just one breath of a laugh at Korra's jumbled explanation and all the little yawns that punctuate it.

"You okay?" Korra asks. She quickly finishes her water and puts the glass back down on the bench. Both hands free, she cups either side of Asami's face and draws her in, slowly enough that if Asami needs to abort the movement she won't have any trouble doing so.

She's tense and somewhat short of breath, but a few moments of languorous kissing are worth the added breathlessness. So is the dopey grin Korra gives her, still so much more asleep than Asami. When she hasn't been wrenched awake by a nightmare, Korra wakes up slowly, though not unhappily. It's amazing how such trivial things can affect the tone of Asami's entire day—but any day beginning with drowsy, adorable Korra is a promising day indeed.

"I'm okay," Asami says, although she pushes her hand down against the benchtop to steady herself as she fills her lungs. Korra watches her, touches her softly and patiently as she breathes. The patience Korra embodies now is so far removed from the rash, stubborn girl Asami first met those years ago. It's been awfully hard-earned, Asami knows. She'd sat up stroking Korra's hair the night before, and the night before that. The consistent interruptions to her sleeping pattern are probably why Korra is up right now. The disturbances have become the norm.

Asami remembers what it was like sitting alone and trying to breathe, how quickly solitude became aching loneliness in the face of that panic. The thought of Korra alone all that time is even worse than her own memories. Much as it hurts to think about those times, though, Asami is comforted by the knowledge that such things don't last. She has Korra back now, has her closer than she ever dreamed she would. There is balance between them now, even as internal imbalance continues in each of them.

"Tea?" Korra suggests.

"That sounds like a good idea."

Korra quickly boils the water with a touch of firebending.

Asami has a few more mouthfuls of noodles before Korra takes the container and wolfs the last of its contents down. She lays another kiss on Asami's lips, and it tastes like the seafood sauce. Asami isn't so naïve as to think that painful memories can be simply overwritten, but she hopes that maybe now these noodles will remind her of the softness of Korra's mouth, the warmth of just being pulled close to her, as well as of her father and all those reasons to be sad.

She breathes in the fragrant steam from her tea and slowly but surely the grip around her lungs eases. It happens best when she isn't thinking about it, focused instead on Korra, on their food and their conversation as they hover in this pocket of time and space, the world sleeping around them. Once her heart isn't racing so fast, Asami's body recognises its own tiredness.

"Bed time?" she suggests.

Korra yawns in response, stretching her arms theatrically over her head. Asami knows that Korra does this, in part, so that she can flex her muscles. She reaches out to give one bicep a squeeze and Korra's cheeks flush slightly. Korra lists to one side as she makes her way back towards the bedroom, and just to be safe Asami wraps her arm around Korra's waist and steadies her.

"I'm the Avatar," Korra assures her, "I can do it m'self."

"I know," Asami kisses her cheek. "But I'm here, so you don't have to."

 

* * *

 

_Your laugh echoes down the hallway_  
_Carves into my hollow chest, spreads over the emptiness_  
_It's bliss_

_(Drive; Halsey)_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also henrymercury on [tumblr](http://henrymercury.tumblr.com/); come talk to me!


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